Especially the "Women" magazine:
The 50 men who really understand women
I select my words carefully:
BOLLOCKS
José Mourinho, 41: For giving women an entrée to football. Partly on account of his cashmere-clad silver foxiness, partly on account of his ultra-arrogant, crowd-taunting theatricals. Mourinho's a one-man soap opera on the sidelines.
Don't be so patronising*. I got into football when Jose Mourinho was about 6 or 7 years old. Guess what, just because women find totty in football, it's hardly a reason to be into football. Totty is not enough reason to sustain an interest over decades. Just an added bonus, as it is with many passive interests. Sure, Jose is an exceptionally good-looking man, but I suspect I'm not alone in not caring for his personality.
And, in any case, I don't watch football to ogle managers. Yeah, I will accept that over the years various footballers have been amongst my pin-ups, but I will argue vociferously that there is little point in fancying a footballer who can't deliver the goods on the pitch. If there are any managers I fancy, they would be Mark Hughes and Bryan Robson. And why would that be?
Because they were the stars of my team when I was at the height of my football watching years. And having met both of them on numerous occasions, I can vouch to them being model celebrities in the be-nice-to-fans stakes. But why do I fancy them? Imagine if you will, Robbo on a surging run through midfield, ball at his feet, leaving the opposition foundering, passing the ball to Sparky who thunders in a stunning half-volley. Goal! And I can personally vouch that Mark is a lovely kisser. But why did I find out in the first place? Because of his innate goal-scoring skills.
And some of the rest of the list include men whose credits include designing shoes, inventing Botox, or running a restaurant that serves food that is "Low-fat, high-protein, lowcarb, terribly fashionable, elegant, ostensibly elitist." Er, no, I like my 'culinary experience' (is that the same as a meal?) to be made with the finest fresh ingredients, cooked to perfection, with an enticing combination of complimenting and contrasting flavours, served in a relaxed atmosphere by knowledgeable and polite, but not subservient, waiting staff, accompanied by good wine and with a barely noticeable background of relaxing melodic music.
Not to mention David Cameron, who opposes the minimum wage, and wants to curtail abortion rights, and introduce tax relief for heterosexual marriage rather than for dependent care. (Oh and while we're on the subject, I don't give a damn politically what he did or didn't do as a teenager,although I suspect that most state schools in the Eighties would have expelled anyone caught smoking pot on the premises).
Can you imagine an article entitled "The 50 Women Who Understand Men"
Thank you for denying and removing my 'gender identity'. How dare you generalise about 50%+ of the population?
* the ultimate etymology of this word is the Latin 'pater', and derives from a sense of a father guiding and instructing the young. Which, of course, in itself, is no bad thing. But when developed and evolved, it is a very sinister notion that some wise man can tell women, not especially young, what's best for them.
Update: and then some whingeing airhead I quit the pill and got my life back
What is clear is that many women, including myself, make far too little effort to educate themselves. When I decided to write this article I called experts and was amazed by how ill-informed I was.I knew barely anything about most of the 30 brands of pill on offer and I was dismally unaware of other long-lasting methods of contraception....
...Toni Belfield, director of information at the FPA, said women would spend days choosing a new outfit, but not picking contraception. I have to admit I spent longer last week researching which food processor I was going to buy than I have ever spent finding out about the pill
Am i supposed to feel sorry for you? Once upon a time, such information was the staple of the Guardian Women's Page and Cosmopolitan etc. Twenty years ago, we didn't have the internet, but feminists (remember them?) were saying all the stuff Lucy Fairford has just found out. She can't be that good a journalist if she lacks basic curiosity and the drive to 'know stuff' - not even about her own body. No doubt she knows everything possible about ill-fiting clothes with fancy 'designer' labels and which c-list celebrity is shagging who this week, but didn't care less about poisoning herself.
I hate the Observer because it really hates women. I have been reading it for over twenty years, the Guardian for quarter of a century and it is a shadow of a once great newspaper.
